Save The Last Dance
by Sarah3
Summary: Yet another story inspired by the 'Star Interludes' on the DVD.


Title: Save the last dance   
Author: Sarah   
Rating: PG-13   
Fandom: Moulin Rouge   
Part: 1/1   
Disclaimer: *sigh* I know that you don't think that they're mine. And they're not. I worship the ground Baz walks on, and it's all his. 

Also- I have just discovered there is another fic on ff.net that is pretty similar to this. I swear to heaven and back that I didn't copy it, I actually already had this story half written before I discovered the other one, and I think this is still different enough to post, but you should read the story by _She's a Star_ too, because it's adorable. I was thinking of not putting this one up after I found hers, but I adore this song and I really wanted to post this, so I hope she doesn't mind.   
Lyrics credit: Save the Last Dance for Me, Lyrics by Doc Pomus and Mort Shuman  
Summary: You know that adorable scene on the DVD of Christian and Satine dancing and giggling in the empty Moulin Rouge? It is just so cute that I wanted to write something about how it came about. That's all. Short and pointless. (What else?!) 

* * *

The Moulin Rouge changed as night fell into sleep and shadows. It slumbered, and became smaller, somehow. The dark corners seemed to close in, the walls spoke amongst themselves. It became a place where whispered conversations and stolen kisses were possible, a quiet place. A place where murmured declarations of love might go unnoticed and where hastily stifled giggles would bounce of the walls, filling the silence completely. 

************ 

They had danced together all night. The Duke and Satine. Satine and the Duke. The courtesan and the smitten fool who called her his own. The perfect couple; the perfect illusion. Christian's eyes could untangle the charade, but that didn't make it easier to bear. All night, he sat alone on the sidelines, watching them like everyone else. Or perhaps not exactly like everyone else. He saw things that others missed. He noticed the stiffness in Satine's shoulders as the Duke spun her clumsily across the dance floor. He caught the frequent, furtive glances in his direction, the unspoken apologies, and momentary warmth in her eyes that belonged to him alone. He knew that the smile on her face was plastic, made to order and carefully manufactured to hide the warmth in her heart, but none of this knowledge calmed the storm inside. Christian had watched in turmoil as the Duke leaned over her, touching her, holding her close, whispering a secret word in her ear. It was more than he could bear, and, gritting his teeth, he turned his back on the dance floor and studied the velvety walls instead. 

He had left eventually, fleeing to his garret where he could be alone with his thoughts. Let her play her game with the Duke. Let her twist his heart into knots, leading him to believe what he must. None of it meant anything. It was to be endured somehow, and that was all. She would come to him when the night was over, and the Duke would melt away, becoming a fairy-tale villain with no more power to disturb their happiness than a shadow. He would hold her and kiss her, and emotion would blur all reality but the certainty that this was all that mattered. This was truth, and everything else was but a game that would end someday. 

Standing by the window, he glanced down upon the moonlit streets. The night was growing peaceful. The silence was music to Christian's ears, because it meant only one thing- she would be here soon and everything would be alright. Whispering to himself, the beginning of a song floated across his mind; 

"_You can dance every dance with the man who gave you the eye. Let him hold you tight…" _

Pausing, he glanced down at the darkened streets once more, his mind fumbling for the words that he felt unconsciously. 

"_You can smile every smile for the man who holds your hand beneath the pale moonlight…but don't forget who's taking you home…." _

The street was still empty, and anxiety gnawed at his stomach. The Moulin Rouge had grown gradually darker, becoming nothing but a shadow on the landscape- so where was she? The guilt hit sharply. What had he been thinking, leaving her to walk the darkened streets on her own? 

He glanced down at the street again. He had stood here so many times, just watching her. He treasured those quiet moments. Her hair would blow in the breeze and glint copper red beneath sunlight and silvery blue by moonlight. A smile would warm her features and he would wonder what she was thinking, and dare to dream that he might have brought such contentment to her face. Each step would be lighter than any she took at the Moulin Rouge, and as the distance between them narrowed, his heart would overflow with delight. Depthless, fathomless delight, tinged faintly with wonder that this was real, that she was walking down this lonely road to be with him. Wonder that something so perfect could last, could grow and fill him with undreamt of peace. The waiting would become sweet torture, and he would take the stairs two at a time as he hurried to begin their borrowed time together. But tonight no one graced the empty street and he was becoming worried. 

******************* 

The side door creaked as Christian pushed it gingerly, and although the sound seemed to fill the dancehall, nothing stirred. Breathing deeply, he turned around, and saw her at once. She was still dressed in her ball gown, but her hair had tumbled down onto her shoulders, and her shoes were carelessly discarded at the edge of the dance floor. She had climbed onto the partially constructed stage and was gesturing to herself, dancing lightly across the floor as her voice floated across the room. 

The smile that spread across Christian's face warmed him completely. What was she doing? Was she rehearsing, or dreaming of opening nights and tumultuous applause? He didn't care. She looked so alive, so content, so beautiful that he could have watched her forever. She was grace and elegance and poetry and in those frozen moments all he knew was that he loved her beyond any words he possessed. Transfixed, he whispered her name, pouring every ounce of desire and tenderness into those two syllables. 

She stopped suddenly, peering over the edge of the darkness. Her stance stiffened; her voice regained its guarded edge. 

"Who's there? Is somebody there? " 

Sheepishly, Christian stepped out from the shadows, and Satine relaxed visibly. 

"Christian! What are you doing! Don't do that to me!" She giggled, jumping down from the stage and running over to him. Kissing him gently, she laughed again. "What on earth were you doing, lurking in shadows like that? I thought you were… you know. Him." Gently brushing a stray strand of hair from his eyes, she tempered her words with a smile. 

"I came to find you, and then when I got here…" A wicked smile perched momentarily on his lips. "When I got here, you were putting on such a virtuoso performance that I just couldn't interrupt you." Gesturing theatrically, he leapt to one side, speaking in an exaggerated stage whisper. "Veee vill conduct our love affair… right under zee Maharaja's nose!" 

She laughed at that "Silly," she whispered, a giggle in her voice. "What are you really doing here?" 

An expression of mock offence crossed his face. "Silly? Me? When you were the one up there singing your heart out to anybody and nobody?" She giggled again, shaking her head in amusement. 

"Well, that's a nice way to treat your knight in shining armour. Here I am, come to escort you safely home through the mean streets of Paris, and all you do is mock me?" He gave up at that, and joined her laughter, holding her tightly as their giggles consumed the silence. 

"Chris, has anyone ever told you that you're a rotten actor?" 

"Mmmm-hmmm. But I'm told I have other…" he grinned at her wickedly, leaning in to close the space between them "…talents." 

Their lips met hungrily and the world faded away, until it contained nothing but the two of them, clutching onto each other, lost in their private dance. Tracing his hand through her hair and down her back, running his thumb along the curve of her hip, all Christian knew was her. He sighed slightly, conscious only of the way she pressed herself against him, tangling her hands in his hair, pulling him in further and further. Their bodies seemed to melt together and time froze in a perfect moment of longing and fulfilment. 

Pulling away slightly, Satine mumbled into his mouth. "Oh, Christian…" She didn't continue, leaving the unspoken to hang in the air between them. 

Contentedly, she leaned her head against his chest, and when she finally spoke, her voice was dreamy. 

"Well, I'm glad you're here, even if I'm not sure why you're here. " 

"If you must know, it was getting late. You weren't there, and I was worried. Besides." His smile was gentle. "I missed you, and I couldn't help noticing that I didn't get to dance with you tonight, so…." 

A shadow darkened Satine's face. The mood shifted imperceptibly, and her voice fell to a whisper. 

"Oh, Christian. I'm sorry." She bit her lip, and glanced up at him quickly. Her voice dropped an octave and she traced a hand gently along his cheek. "I'm so sorry. I wanted to dance with you, but it's just…" 

She made a dismissive gesture with her free hand, encompassing in a single movement everything that kept them apart. Christian thought he noticed a tear glistening at the corner of her eye as she looked up at him, seeking forgiveness. 

Holding her tightly, he gently stroked her hair as she buried her face in his shoulder, letting out a shuddery breath that tickled his neck. 

"Satine. Oh, Satine, I know. I didn't mean to upset you." He whispered into her hair, drinking in the scent of her, the warmth of her as he did so. "I know you did, I know." Pulling away slightly he held her gaze, trying to reassure her with his voice and his eyes that he understood, that somehow this confusion would right itself. 

"What I meant to say," he continued in a steadier voice "was that you owe me at least one dance." 

She laughed shakily, and his sudden grin lit up the room. 

"Why, Monsieur, I would be honoured. I was saving the last dance for you, after all." 

Christian's smile as he took her proffered hand soared beyond joy or delight. It was a smile that overflowed with love, a smile that spoke of a perfect moment that he would hold in his heart forever. He spun her into his arms, twirling her around the room, losing himself to the dance, to her. As their feet flew across the floor Christian was anywhere but the dark dancehall. He was flying amongst the stars, dancing across a meadow of flowers. His face was solemn as he held her gaze, unwilling to break the silence when mere words couldn't possibly express everything that was in his heart. Pulling her closer, he spun her a little faster into their private world, and she laughed gently, leaning against him. He bent down, her hair tickling his mouth as he sang softly in her ear: 

_"Don't forget who's taking you home, and in whose arms you're going to be;   
So darling, save the last dance for me." _

A single, whispered word escaped Satine's lips. 

"Always." 

******************* 

As their steps slowed, they came to rest at the edge of the stage. Laughing, Satine shook her head as Christian held his hand out to her once more. 

"Enough, Chris!" she protested laughingly, pouting slightly. "My feet hurt. I think I need to put my shoes back on." Before he could speak, she dashed across the room, leaning against a mirror as she pulled her shoes on. 

Watching her from across the room, Christian walked towards her slowly. 

"I admit, I had my dance." Satine nodded, laughing. "But I didn't get to finish my song," he teased. 

Raising an eyebrow at him, Satine sought to suppress a giggle as he stood before her, a smile dancing in his eyes. "Is that so?" 

"Mmm-hmmm" His voice was mere breath against her cheek as he leaned in to kiss her, softly singing in her ear. 

_"Darling, don't you know I love you so?   
Can't you feel it when we touch?   
I will never ever let you go;   
I love you… _

Pulling back slightly, he whispered the final words, cupping her face in his hand. 

"…Oh, so much."

**The End**


End file.
